


some say you're trouble, boy

by billy_crash



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, I Don't Even Know, I swear the plot is important, Identity Porn, M/M, Masturbation, Midnighter is fucked, Porn With Plot, Riding, Rimming, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Suit Porn, Tim is 17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billy_crash/pseuds/billy_crash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I don't need a fucking bodyguard," Tim says.</p><p>"I am sorry," Bruce smiles tensely, and Lucas can see from his body language that he'd rather be in some expensive club, sticking his fingers in some willing and needy lady, than giving his adopted son a lecture about safety on this Friday night. "Do I look like I am asking for your opinion?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	some say you're trouble, boy

**Author's Note:**

> this was written for this prompt:
> 
> "26. Sitting on the same bench in a park"
> 
> everything goes down somewhere in New52, I guess, Tim is still Robin, and Midnighter (I went with his made up name in this one) is just your regular guy who still can kick asses and do it fine

"I don't need a fucking bodyguard," Tim says, drowning further in the armchair big enough to fit three of him.

"I am sorry," Bruce smiles tensely, and Lucas can see from his body language that he'd rather be in some expensive club, sticking his fingers in some willing and needy lady, than giving his adopted son a lecture about safety on this Friday night. "Do I look like I am asking for your opinion?"

"It is probably just some bullshit again," Tim says, sounding annoyed.

"I have enough boys dead on me already," Bruce snaps. "If Lucius says you might be in danger, then you are sucking it up and spend no damn second without..."

"M," Lucas reminds him, feeling amused enough with his new job already.

Bruce shoots him irritated look for interrupting.

"Without this _who-fucking-cares_ following your every step," Bruce continues, earning a giggle from Tim. "Are we clear?"

"Yeah, boss," Tim huffs and gives Lucas a sharp smile, really noticing him for the first time since he entered the room.

" _Great_ ," Bruce sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, and then turns to Lucas. "If he dies, I'll bury you alive."

And from what Lucas knows about spoiled rich people with enough power and money, he has no reason to doubt it.

***

Tim is every beat of what they write about him in newspapers and more, even.

"So," he asks on the first day, crossing his arms. "Are you going to watch me shit or do I get a little privacy with that, at least?"

Lucas laughs to Tim's obvious surprise and grins sharply.

"What do you know," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe I applied for this job just to watch you shit."

"Ew," Tim scrunches his nose. "Go fucking sit in that chair. If I see you near the door, I will cut you. Fuck. And you actually consider it funny. _Asshole_."

Lucas puts his palms up in piece offer and backs off to the chair. But as soon as he hears the door being shut, he charges downstairs, through the bunch of long halls and outside, then. When he passes the corner of the house, he is there just in time to drag Tim down by his ankle hanging in the air, while he tries to climb down the wall.

"Ou- fucking, what the?" Tim hisses, rubbing his back where it hit the ground. 

Lucas sits near him, still smiling, warningly this time.

"Not my first spoiled smartass fucker," he says and helps Tim up, brushing the dirt and grass from his black crop-top and too tight for anyone's good black pants. "Going somewhere?"

"Club," Tim says, batting his hands away. When he looks back at Lucas, there is strange challenge in his eyes.

"Okay," Lucas says and takes phone from his pocket, dialing their driver.

Tim narrows his eyes, but says nothing, until Lucas tells the name of the club to the driver.

"That's not the one I was going to," Tim says, hands crossed on his chest. 

"Yeah, well any other club in Gotham except this one is shit, and I have my standards," Lucas answers and goes to the gates, not looking if Tim is following him or not.

"Fine," Tim huffs not so long after, and Lucas hears his steps behind him.

***

Tim looks like he is expecting Lucas to stand near him all night long and scare off every poor soul that tries to dance with him.

Lucas actually laughs at Tim's confused look when he waves him off to have fun and maybe a drink. 

The music is good and the alcohol is fucking great, even if Lucas only tries it to flirt with a hot tattooed bartender.

He finds the first pretty guy on the dance floor, locking his hands around his hips and giving in to the loud beats, crawling under his skin and pounding loud under his ribs. Lucas treats dancing like _sex_ , and he is pretty sure the guy he is dancing with comes in his pants like some highschooler at least twice until Lucas gets bored with him and moves to another.

Tim notices him only an hour later, too caught up in his mind until then. Tim notices that wherever he goes and wherever he is dancing, Lucas is right there, few steps behind him, not letting out even for a bit that they are connected somehow.

And if they end up dancing together, Lucas's hands gripping his hips at first and clawing at Tim's bare stomach then, grinding against him to the slow and wicked rhythm of music - Tim does not look too surprised about it anymore.

***

Lucas stands in the respectable distance from Tim the next day, waiting for their ride home. Tim is sitting on the fence, surrounded by loud as hell teenagers. Lucas waits, until they all leave, before coming to stand beside Tim, who takes a cigarette from an almost empty pack and searches his pockets for the lighter.

"I don't like your friends," Lucas says after a while, taking a cigarette from Tim's hand. Tim makes a face at him, but lets him, and that is as much of a permission he is going to get. Not that he really needs one.

"Well," Tim says, watching Lucas as he takes a long drag and exhales smoke in the cold air. "Good thing I don't give a crap whether you like them or not."

"Not gonna admit they make you sick just as well, huh?" Lucas smirks, passing cigarette back to Tim. Tim grins wickedly, hollows his cheeks as he breathes the smoke in. He lets it out of his mouth in perfect little circles just for the sake of showing off, his boot sliding up Lucas's leg, stopping at his thigh.

"Mhm," Tim hums before taking another drag. He bumps his foot once before leaning back and spreading his legs a little. "Are you done for the day?"

His shirt lifts up, and Lucas can see dark bruises on Tim's navel he left there the night before. 

"Yeah," Lucas says, dragging his fingers along the pale skin to claw in Tim's hips after and lift him up with ease and put him on the ground. "Driver is here."

"Huh," Tim says, tilting his head to the side and looking at Lucas with barely visible amusement.

Lucas fixes Tim's uniform, ruffles his hair just to see Tim pouting at him and puts a gum in his mouth. 

***

Tim lays sprawled on his belly, his legs in the air and knees spread.

"Do you have a bike?" Tim asks, turning his head from some glamorous magazine he was reading to look at Lucas.

Lucas shifts in the chair, putting Tim's math assignment back on the table.

"Why?" he asks, and Tim rolls on his side, thighs clenched together and rubbing against each other in a slight and almost unnoticeable motion.

"Bet you wanna me to ride it," Tim smirks.

"Bet you could not handle it," Lucas huffs, standing up and packing Tim's things for tomorrow. He turns his back on Tim, who takes it as an invitation. Lucas can't see him, but the way Tim's breath is catching up his throat leaves no room for imagination.

"Not your job," Tim murmurs, quiet muffled whine escaping his mouth not so long after.

"Nah," Lucas agrees and turns back to him, holding Tim's bag. Tim has one hand down his sweatpants and another in his mouth, three fingers clawing at his lower lip as he bites at them with every slow roll of his hips. His eyes go shut when Lucas reaches his bed and puts his bag at the end of it. "Your homework is all good."

Tim blinks and looks at him, his eyes hazy already. Lucas brushes his bare ankle, squeezing it and moving his hand higher, up to his knee. He can feel Tim's muscles tensing as he rolls his hips forward harder this time, and if Lucas has not known him better, he'd take it for desperation.

" _Touch me_ ," Tim says, in a voice that is made for giving orders, but Lucas just hums, sliding his fingers down again and taking a step back from the bed.

"Your school is dumb," Lucas says, meaning the shit ass excuse for assignments he checked on; apparently, if your kid is rich, he should be getting the lamest education for the sake of never asking his parents all the right questions. "You could do better."

"Hn," Tim answers, arching his back and coming.

Lucas passes him a towel and sits back in a chair. Tim takes the magazine again, flipping through it's pages as if nothing has happened.

***

Tim is sitting on the bench, legs crossed, and sucking on a bright red candy, while Lucas tries his hardest not to die with a huge and ugly guy sitting on his back and choking him with his thick and greasy fingers.

It is close to midnight, other two thugs are lying around, knocked off, their blood and spit covering his knuckles. The third one was knocked off too, but they make them that huge for a reason, apparently.

Lucas urges himself forward rapidly to make the guy's grip on his throat relax a little then kicks him with his elbow, rolling to his side and using the motion to throw the guy off him to the ground. And he might be big and strong as fuck, but Lucas is faster, and he was taught not to fight, but to kill, even if he'd have to rip someone's throat with his teeth to get where he needs to.

So Lucas gives him no time to get up, charges forward, ignoring the burning pain in his neck and dizziness in his head. He kicks the air out of the guys lungs with a hit to his ribcage and then to his throat. 

Lucas stumbles up to his legs then, kicking the fuck out of the assholes ear with his toe, cracks his nose and dislocates his jaw with the next harsh blows.

"Huh," Lucas says when he is done making guy's face in a bloody piece of meat and the rage, pounding in his head, calms down a little. "These guys were good."

This is the first real action he's got in weeks working for Waynes, so now his brain starts searching for the person who might be responsible for this assault, until.

Until Tim laughs, patting the spot on the bench beside him, and Lucas looks at him in confusion.

"I know," Tim says, licking at the top of what is left of his candy and then shoving it in his mouth and under his cheek. "I hiwed wem."

Lucas proceeds to the bench, his fists clenching for some reason and sits down beside Tim, who gives him a funny look from under his lashes.

"What?" Tim asks, taking candy from his mouth and putting it away after a few moments of silence. "You angry?"

"And you are batshit crazy," Lucas huffs, wiping the blood of his hands off his jeans to busy himself with something, anything. "Also, water is wet and there is crime in Gotham."

"You _are_ ," Tim sounds surprised, but more so - excited. Lucas feels Tim's fingers on his knee and Tim's warm breath near his ear, his whole body shivering against his will when Tim starts talking again. "Don't be ridiculous, M. Now I know how good _you_ are, too."

The next thing he knows, Tim crawls on his lap, hugging his thighs with his legs and gripping at his shoulders. 

"You are not my fucking nanny," Tim says wholeheartedly, leaning closer. There is anger in his eyes that burns it's way through Lucas's still wired up on adrenaline brain. 

Tim's lips are sticky from the candy when he mouths at his neck, rolling his hips slightly. 

They are in the fucking park in the middle of the night, there are three unconscious bodies lying beside them on the ground, and the moon is shining so bright Lucas can see just how red and swollen Tim's mouth looks when he lifts his head up from his throat, eyes wide and black and insane completely.

"I loved the way you fight," Tim admits, and Lucas puts his hands on his hip and lower back, Tim arching closer to the touch and shutting his eyes close, small whimper leaving his mouth as Lucas tugs him forward.

"No way," Lucas says, squeezing his hips and laughing when Tim humps against his thigh, looking really offended at the same time.

"Why won't you fuck me already?" Tim asks with the same displeased frown, digging his nails in his shoulders.

"Then you won't have such fun fucking with me," Lucas shrugs, but lets Tim use his body for friction, his hands guiding every little motion of Tim's hips, bites his neck just above his collar, when he feels Tim trembling under his touch and his breath hitching, meaning he is close. 

Tim makes the sweetest broken sound when he comes, his fingers clenching around his shoulders hard enough to leave bruises, and that almost sends Lucas over the edge too. Almost.

Tim catches his breath and looks at him unreadably for some really long moments, before he reaches for Lucas's belt, unfastening it. Lucas bats his hand away, not paying attention to the insulted look in Tim's eyes.

"We need to get out of here. And you need a change of clothes," he says, lifting Tim up and placing him on the bench, while he gets on his feet again.

Tim huffs, crossing his arms.

"And who is fucking with whom, again?" 

Lucas smiles at him sweetly, not even trying to make it look real.

"Do I need to carry you to the car?" he asks, standing in front of Tim.

Tim flips him off, jumping from the bench.

***

"You do this to every spoiled smartass?" Tim asks him lazily, his head on Lucas's knees. He looks up at him for this question, and that is a view to kill for, really.

"Maybe," Lucas answers, his fingers tangling in Tim's hair. Tim lets him for a few moments, before shaking his hands off.

The TV is on, some dumb cooking show playing, the show Tim pretends to be watching. The way he sucks on his lower lip supposes to mean he is thinking hard about something said by stupid white trash guy who thinks lasagna is a sex pose. And the way he shifts closer to Lucas's groin - totally unintentional, too, one can't lie without moving for long anyway.

When Tim turns his head a little, eyes glued to screen and mouths at his thigh, getting the fabric wet and warm, pretending to be yawning for a really long time - well, there is only so much patience a man can have.

"I don't get you," Lucas says, shoving Tim away not even trying to be gentle. "Is it because I won't let you?"

"What," Tim rolls his eyes, getting comfortable on the couch and bringing his finger to his lower lip sheepishly, before shoving it in his mouth deep enough so he can bite his knuckle and drag it back with an audible pop. "What are you even talking about?"

Lucas thinks about dragging Tim to the floor and fucking his face stupid until his jaw is aching and he can't talk crap for a couple of days. Lucas thinks about it longer then he should.

"Change a channel," he says, looking away from Tim. "If I hear this fucker open his mouth one more time, I might crash your TV in the wall and go kill somebody."

"I'll buy a new one," Tim muses, but takes the remote and switches to some criminal drama with a wide-eyed main heroine who has about two emotions on her face, but that's kind of okay, anyway.

Tim giggles quietly and settles his head back on Lucas's lap. 

***

There is that one time when a guy in a club decides it would be pretty cool to put his hands in Tim's pants even if Tim does not share his enthusiasm much. Lucas beats the guy in the alley until he is satisfied with the way you can't see where the fucker's lips start because of the blood covering his face. Also he is more than sure that this guy is bound to eat through straps for at least a month, so.

Tim does not interfere, just stands there, leaning on the wall, not jerking away even when Lucas drags the guy's face along dirty bricks and nearly shoves him in Tim. 

Something flicks in his eyes when Lucas drops the guy to the ground, and Tim does not look like Tim for a few brief seconds. Lucas has no time to figure it out, because Tim kicks him in the shoulder, making him bump in the wall. 

Tim drags his head down, tugging at his hair harshly, and bites his lips with a fierce that surprises Lucas enough to let Tim slid his tongue inside of his mouth and kiss him messily. There is spit on his chin when he backs off and wipes it with the back of his hand.

Lucas should say something. 

He does not.

***

There is that one time when they have dinner in some fancy restaurant and Lucas sits there and takes all the olives out of Tim's salad because Tim is allergic and Lucas does not feel ridiculous because of it.

And there is that one time when they wander the streets half of the night because they've been kicked off the last club in Gotham and Tim falls asleep on his shoulder, so Lucas has to carry him to the car when the driver comes to pick them.

There are also these times when Tim drags him to mall and tries to fuck him in every dressing room he visits (Lucas considers himself a saint by this moment, really), and when they have to sit through board meetings in Wayne Enterprises and Tim is bored enough to stroke Lucas's leg with his boot under the table, almost touching his groin but missing it intentionally. When Tim is reading books on the couch and Lucas knows better than to try and drag him to the bed even if it is long past midnight. Lucas knows how Tim likes his coffee, his favorite brand of cigarettes (and his second favorite too), when he needs to skip classes and when he so fucking does not. Lucas knows how Tim looks, when he is coming, even if he is not really touching him in that matter.

There is that time when Tim is asleep and Lucas is not, and he looks at his face and suddenly thinks - fuck.

 _Fuck_.

***

"Well, maybe your intel was fucking wrong," Lucas swears and covers his eyes with a palm, trying really hard not to tune off all the bullshit he hears from the other side of phone. "Yeas, I am fucking sure. What the fuck. Who do you think I am, some dumbass sucker? Oh, god, fine, I'll do it, just get off my back, fuck."

He hangs off, turning furiously just to face Tim, who looks at him with curiosity in his eyes, his head tilted to his shoulder, which makes him look like a damn cat or something.

"What was that about?" Tim asks.

"Family stuff," Lucas explains, irritated still. "Sorry, did not mean for you to hear this bullshit."

"I don't mind," Tim shrugs. "You look hot when you are angry."

Lucas watches him bending over to retie laces on his boots. And, well - fuck it.

It has gone too far already.

***

"Where are we going?" Tim asks, not recognizing streets they are passing.

"My place," Lucas answers. "Need to grab some of my things."

Tim seems satisfied enough to keep silent until they stop outside one of the shittiest buildings in the crapy enough already neighborhood.

"My, what a dirty house you have here, granny," Tim singsongs, following Lucas up to his floor. 

The door is shut, but the key is not in the place he had it hidden, so Lucas just shoves at the door with his shoulder hard enough to open it. Tim huffs behind his back, sneaking glances inside and frowning when he gets into the small and dusty living room.

"Your place is shit," Tim says accusingly for whatever reason.

"Well, it is not as if you are paying me enough to afford some fucking mansion," Lucas answers, feeling more tensed than he probably should. "Stay the fuck here while I check kitchen for roaches and don't touch anything."

When he comes back, Tim is obviously in his bedroom already, going through his stash of flavored condoms. He does not look even a little bothered by the fact that the whole fucking wall in front of the bed is covered in photos of Batman and Robin, newspaper cuts and some other shit in Lucas's handwriting.

Lucas is fucking impressed at this point.

"Wanna try this one," Tim says, lifting a pink one (raspberry flavored, probably). And then he stands up and smiles at Lucas. "Stay here, I'll be back in ten minutes."

Lucas has no idea why, but he does not follow Tim. He just sits on his bed and looks at the wall, feeling exhausted and frustrated, and maybe empty just a little.

***

Tim comes back, to his surprise, with a bag in his hand that has some sex shop logo on it. He disappears in the bathroom for a while, leaving it with his nose scrunched and a slight disgusted look on his face (maybe a giant hole in the wall where the shower is has something to do with it), but Lucas honestly could not care less, because.

"Personally I enjoyed this design more," Tim says, standing in front of Lucas, fingers tugging at green fabric stretched around his hips. "I mean, just imagine how easy it would be for Batman to fuck him in those obscene shorts."

"What the fuck?" Lucas asks, eyes travelling up and down Tim's body wrapped in a very bad copy of Robin's original costume. His chest is bare, yellow laces connecting two pieces of fabric which is probably supposed to look like Robin's tunic. And his fucking legs, thighs pale and smooth, are asking for someone - anyone - to rip their teeth in a soft and welcoming flesh until they are completely and utterly damaged. Lucas can't fucking get it. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Tim laughs at him, turning around and climbing on the bed, little yellow cowl hanging on his shoulders and doing damn bad job to cover his ass, which is. Well. Like Lucas needs some fucking reminding just how bad he wants to get his hands on it.

"Relax, M," Tim says, falling on his back and spreading his legs wide enough for Lucas to make out the shape of his half hard cock hidden in those fucking panties. "You are in Gotham. Everyone in Gotham have some Bat-related fetish, so. No judging here."

"Fetish," Lucas repeats after him slowly, and something snaps in him, when Tim puts a small black mask on his head, looking extremely satisfied with himself. "You are fucking insane."

"Like you are the healthiest person in this damn city," Tim bites back, sounding insulted, but that expression fades a little, when Lucas drags him closer by his ankle, not caring if that will leave bruises (it probably will).

"Fuck if I am," Lucas says and lifts Tim leg on his shoulder, mouthing at the pale skin and biting down to his knee with that much of a greed and hunger he should have known was there.

"If you stop," Tim says, sprawled on his back before him, and something dark and serious in his eyes that goes right to Lucas's nerves. "You will fucking regret it."

"Sweetheart," Lucas breathes out, dropping Tim's leg and crawling between his thighs to lean forward and whisper in his ear. "If your damn dad was standing here with a gun to my head I'd still fucked you and asked him to wait for his fucking turn."

Tim shivers and tugs his face closer, clawing in his chin. 

"Take this stupid mask off," Lucas asks, their foreheads touching by now. He can see the way Tim's eyes widen at this, and Lucas himself can't tell for what he is asking, exactly. But Tim reaches for the mask and drags it up, throwing it away, and then his legs are locking around Lucas's waist and he rolls his hips impatiently.

Lucas laughs, cupping the back of Tim's head, tries not to think how fucking small he feels like this and opens his mouth with his thumb before leaning in and kissing him deep and dirty until Tim whines in his mouth and goes limp under him.

"Still wanna try that," Tim says breathily, when they part for air. Lucas follows direction of his eyes and smirks, seeing the fucking pink condom lying just beside them.

"You got it, baby," Lucas answers and gets up to find a bottle of lube that is not spent completely. 

***

"You know," Tim says casually, his hand on Lucas's dick wrapped in bright pink condom. "I was surprised you could even read at one point."

"I am flattered," Lucas answers, tugging at his hair when Tim licks at the head of his cock with curiosity.

"You look dumb," Tim continues, his tongue sliding up his length now, eyes shut. "Not my fault."

"Will you please just shut your pretty mouth already?" Lucas groans, his hand pressing hard on Tim's head to make him just go down on him already.

Tim giggles, but lets him, sound of his laugh getting muffled when he bobs his head, his lips wrapped tight around his cock when he lifts up again, looking up at Lucas with his fucking innocent blue eyes and thick lashes, Jesus, life is unfair.

"Rude," Tim says accusingly and sucks him down again almost immediately after, fitting half of him at first try.

He looks so damn pretty like this, cheeks hollowed and lips stretched around Lucas's huge cock, taking it good and deep, going further with every bob of his head. Lucas thinks he can see fucking stars when Tim forces himself all the way down, his throat clenching around his cock, before he needs to go back for air.

His chin is wet already with saliva, hints of tears in the corners of his eyes, and then he licks his lips, almost purring over the taste of raspberry stuck at them, like he has just eaten the most delicious candy in his life, and maybe he fucking did.

"Turn around," Lucas breathes out, because he waited damn long already, but he does not let Tim even try and follow his order, grabbing him and turning around, making him stand on his knees and elbows, so he would face the wall with pictures.

"Ru-ude," Tim murmurs again, but does not look displeased at all. "So, you turned out to be dumb after all."

"Excuse me?" Lucas asks, tugging the edge of his panties to the side and biting his asscheek, spreading them wide after that. Tim turns his head to look at him over his shoulder like Lucas is fucking retarded.

"You really think Bruce could be Batman?" Tim asks, raising an eyebrow. Even in this ridiculous suit and his ass in Lucas's hands he manages to look intimidating. That's a talent. Lucas hums in his skin, gets his thumb wet with spit and rubs it around Tim's hole, pushing in just a little to feel the pressure of his muscles. Tim turns his head back, tilting it down. When he starts talking again, he sounds angry. "Fucking Bruce. The only thing he is capable of is wasting money and getting wasted. And fucking shit up for his team to clean up after him."

"I traced money," Lucas explains, before licking at Tim's entrance slowly, testing the waters. Tim tastes good and shivers when Lucas does that. "It goes to Wayne Enterprises, so I just figured."

"Mhm," Tim drags out sarcastically, thrusting his hips at Lucas's mouth, moaning lowly when Lucas finally fucks his tongue inside of him. "Bruce is not capable of any of this shit. My guess is he just found some poor street fellow and spent a fortune on his training just because he thought that a man in a bat suit running around Gotham would be hilarious. Ah, god, just fuck me already."

Lucas huffs, pushing his thumb inside of Tim, spreading his spit on Tim's inner walls, while he wipes his chin with other hand. He fucks him with his fingers then, adding one at a time, with a generous amount of lube, until Tim is all wet and open and begging, painfully hard under his panties. Lucas does not take them off, just grabs Tim's hips, standing on his knees beside him, and shoves his cock inside of him in one merciless motion.

"Oh, fuck," Tim gasps and tries to get Lucas deeper in him.

"Yeah," Lucas agrees, putting out and pushing in harder this time, gripping Tim's shoulder. "Fuck your boss."

Tim makes a little noise, shaking when Lucas thrusts in him again.

"And fuck your school," Lucas continues, dragging Tim's hips back with him and slamming into him so hard Tim almost falls on the bed face flat. "Fuck your friends." Harder. "Fuck your books." Harder. "Fuck your posh attitude."

With the last one he holds tight Tim to his chest, like he is a doll, and pounds into him fast and deep so many times he loses count.

"Come," he hears Tim's voice, out of breath and pleading already. "Just - fuck, come inside, okay?"

And Lucas thinks about how it could have felt, spilling in Tim's tight ass and sucking the come out of him then for so fucking long Tim would've begged him to just fuck him with anything again.

"You are fucking devil," he groans, tugging Tim back on his cock by his silly cowl, and Tim gasps, feeling out of air where the laces cut in his neck with the motion, and maybe it is what does it for him.

Because Tim is coming hard and shaking, knees giving in, so Lucas grips him and fucks him through this as rough and ruthless as he can manage, until he is coming too, his cock pulsing inside of Tim, Tim's ass so fucking tight and clenched around him, Lucas almost blacks out.

"Fucking condoms," Lucas manages when he pulls out and tosses it on the floor.

Tim says nothing, just rolls on his back and looks so blissfully fucked out of whatever conversation they really should've been having right now.

Lucas lies beside him and shuts his eyes.

***

When he wakes up, Tim is gone, his Robin suit is on the floor and the room is smelling of sex still - probably has some something to do with the come on his sheets and Tim's green panties, but whatever.

There are some changes on his wall, too, and Lucas should be more surprised, but he is in fact pretty much not. Pictures of him in his full Midnighter gear, because somebody was stalking him while he was stalking good old Bat and Robin, obviously. And a note pinned by batarang to the middle of the wall in Tim's handwriting - "Always thought you'd look good in leather."

Lucas sits on his bed and looks at this mess for something like ten minutes, rubbing at his eyes, before he starts laughing.

The kid has style, that is for sure.

When he feels he can stand up and try to act like a person, he starts searching his flat for cameras, finding around ten and throwing it in the sink which is full of dirty and smelling like shit water. There is a bug in his phone, of course, not that he was not aware of it, but it still makes him grin so wide his face starts hurting.

This is a warning, loud and clear, Tim must have like him at least a little if he gave him one. Any normal person would have been packing their shit and running to Mexico right now, but Lucas is kind of fucked up, so.

Nobody sane would ever mess with Batclan, but - sane? He fucked a boy dressed as slutty Robin, so that title does not fit him a lot anyway.

He breaks the bug, cleans his apartment as much as he can and waits for the night to come.

***

"You are either really stupid," Tim says, landing perfectly on the roof before him. "Or straight out fucking dumb."

Lucas smiles at him sharply, hiding his hands in the pockets of his cowl. Seeing Tim in his Robin suit, even if it is the perfectly civil one, does things to him that are really going to get him killed tonight or what.

"Why a cold shoulder, darling?" Lucas asks, even though he knows the answer pretty well. Tim still smiles for a brief second, going back to being all collected and threatening then.

It is fucking hypnotizing to watch him like this - without any of his shit act, even the slight twitch of his finger screaming just how deadly he really is. This is Tim that Lucas only saw subtle hints of, Tim that makes him want to drop to his knees right there and fucking worship him.

"How long have you known?" Tim suddenly asks, cocking his head to a side, and the question takes Lucas by surprise.

"About?" He raises his eyebrow, though Tim won't see it anyway because of his cowl.

"Cut the fucking crap, M," Tim bites at him, sounding seriously annoyed, and then he leans on the wall, his arms crossed and eyes pining Lucas to the spot he is standing on.

"Such a drama queen," Lucas rolls his eyes, but then continues without acting up, trying to be as serious as he could ever get (which is not much, but still). "From the first day, hon. No, actually, even before I met you properly."

Tim blinks before frowning.

"What?"

"Jeez. Sweetie, I'll know your ass anywhere. And that sad excuse of a pretender you used to run at nights with Bruce while we were partying our asses out? Don't make me even comment on him," Lucas huffs, crossing his arms just as well.

"Kon's ass is fine," Tim says before he can catch himself and shaking his head, smile showing in the corners of his lips. "You fucker."

"Yeah, your boy is okay, but if you trying to fool somebody who has been in real combat, you should find someone who at least tries to move like you," Lucas shrugs, counting Tim's smile as a little victory.

"But we listened to all your conversations with your boss," Tim says, looking really confused. "You told him - repeatedly - that there is no fucking way Bruce is Batman and I am Robin."

"Well, maybe I liked my new job better." Lucas says and looks Tim straight in the eyes.

Tim just stands there in silence for maybe a minute. Then he launches himself forward, closing the distance between him and Lucas in a few steps.

"Do you," Tim starts, narrowing his eyes and looking up to him, like he tries to find something that gives him a reason to punch Lucas in a face and forget that he ever existed. "Do you even understand how fucking lame and cheesy this sounds?"

"Maybe," Lucas smiles. "But I am here, ain't I?"

"Unbelievable," Tim breathes out, sounding a little too exaggerated. "And you called me batshit crazy."

"Mm," Lucas chews on his lower lip. "But babe, you kinda are."

"Shut the fuck up and follow me," Tim says, palming his face and shaking his head.

Lucas is indeed stupid, so when Tim jumps to the next roof, Lucas does too. 

What the even fuck, Lucas.

***

"So," Lucas says, shifting in a sit of fucking Batmobile. "What happens now? Can I suck you off before you dump me in a cage or something?"

"No," Tim tells him firmly, but looks at him then, like he is considering the offer, but shakes his head, repeating with more pressure now. "No. Please try to be civil, for fucks sake. A cage? Who do you think we are, some cavemen?"

"Actually," Lucas grins, and Tim gives him a look that can make grown men shit their pants.

"Shut up," Tim says, and Lucas laughs, turning to look through the window.

"So," he starts again after a few minutes. "You know I was supposed to kill you, right?"

"Figured," Tim responds, rolling his eyes. "Jesus. I'd watch you try."

"I have my moves," Lucas shrugs. He does not recognize the area, probably some super-secret path to the Cave. Which means he is gonna end up dead for knowing it. Well, Bats don't kill, sure, but people can disappear.

"I am supposed to take you to Blackgate," Tim breaks the silence this time.

"Will you?" Lucas asks, starting to remember some friends that were doing their time in that shithole, just in case.

"I might have," Tim hums, but smirks soon. "Bit you would've enjoyed it there too much, so what the point."

"Asshole," Lucas does not even try to mean it as a bad thing - and honestly, he is not sure anything can pass as a bad thing when it comes to Tim. "Arkham, then?"

"What? God, no, you are too dumb for Arkham," Tim huffs. 

"But I am crazy enough, aye?" Lucas says, waving his hands around going for an alien octopus look. Tim gives him an unimpressed look over, but his eyes are surely smiling.

"You are insane just fine," Tim says. "But no."

"I can be your personal fucked up archenemy, if you wanna," Lucas suggests with a grin, and then they are driving in a fucking waterfall, through it, actually, and why is he even surprised.

"I'll pass," Tim deadpans.

"We still can fuck in a Batcar," Lucas says when they enter the Cave and Tim stops the car. He thinks Tim will flip him off again, but he just tilts his head to the side and smirks:

"Later."

Lucas bumps his head in the sit hard, before climbing outside.

***

"How about a chair? Chair is great, Batman probably really likes it. He won't mind if we make it a little dirty, right?" Lucas is babbling, but he can't shut up when he is nervous, and he is hella nervous now. Not because of some punishment that will certainly follow, but because he can't figure out what Tim wants and that messes with his hand.

"Bet you'd want me to ride you on a giant robo dino we have over there," Tim answers and when he sees his eyes light up at that, he pokes a finger in Lucas's chest, passing by him to a long and not safe looking staircase, fading to the darkness. "Don't you dare answer this, you moron."

"I'd settle on a bike," Lucas sighs, because giant dino? You can't say things like this and back off, you just can't.

"Yeah, well, been there," Tim says because he is a bastard, but at least he does not say he did not enjoy it. Cause Lucas knows he did. He has dirty green panties to prove his point. "We are not fucking in the Cave, for god's sake. We are going to Bruce's study, we talk and then maybe we fuck."

Lucas bites back his respond and just follows Tim upstairs.

"A clock," he says, when they are up in the mansion. "Your secret enter to the Cave is a clock."

"So?" Tim asks, not turning to face him, but Lucas knows the fucker enjoys every second of it. He was probably dying to show off all the cool stuff they have in there.

"You people are ridiculous," Lucas says, but Tim just shrugs, leading the way through the halls.

***

Tim is sitting on his dick about five minutes after they entered the study. Not exactly the definition of talking, but Lucas really is not complaining.

"If this is my sentence," he murmurs in Tim's shoulder, guiding him down on his cock with his hands. "I must have done something right in my past life."

"You wish," Tim answers, rolling his hips in the most obscene motion Lucas has ever experienced, and he is the walking definition of menwhore, so that says something. 

"Just let me get this straight," Lucas pauses dramatically, and Tim laughs in his ear, clenching around his cock. "Your plan was to play a train wreck with me and wait until I back off?"

"Pretty much yeah," Tim agrees, pushing himself up and then down again, back curving in a sweetest line ever, while he fucks himself on Lucas's dick harder and faster with each moment.

"Was giving me blue balls an order from the daddy too?" Lucas can't help but ask, and Tim shivers and clenches around him at this - and fuck. What is with all this sidekicks and their daddy issues?

"Nah," Tim breathes out finally, then stops almost completely, and - oh, there is a light blush on his cheeks, now of all the times. "I don't do this usually. I mean. Fuck."

"Hush," Lucas says, because he has to say something, and he is too struck right now for it to be anything coherent. "And wrap your pretty legs around me, cause I gonna fuck you on your boss's table. Maybe even break it."

Tim whines when Lucas lifts him up and puts him on the table in front of them, thrusting in him hard, keeps doing it, until every single sound leaving Tim's mouth is broken whine and his eyes are wet, his pretty cock leaking on his belly, and then he fucking comes without touching himself.

Lucas thinks he might die right there. And he does break the damn table.

***

"Work with us," Tim offers him, when they are all cleaned up and back in the Cave, Tim sitting in front of a computers and sorting the information Lucas gave him about his hirer, and Lucas is messing around with batarangs Tim gave him so he'd stop trying to blow him while he is working.

"Not exactly a hero material," Lucas says, and he really should filter things that leave his mouth, but he does not regret his next words anyway. "But I'll stick around."

"Okay," Tim says and goes back to his work.

It's long past midnight when a black bike enters the Cave with Batman on it. Lucas looks at him and he gets why folks are so terrified of this fellow at the moment, he really does.

"So?" Batman asks Tim, loses his gauntlets and cowl, tossing them on the floor.

"He's good," Tim answers, not even looking at him. "And your table is broken."

Lucas expects Bruce to yell or beat the crap out of him or maybe set him on fire. He does not expect Bruce to say.

"Fine."

And disappear in showers.

"Can I kiss you?" Lucas whispers, leaning to Tim, who drags the chair back and sighs tiredly.

"We have ten minutes," Tim says after a while and spreads his legs. "So you can blow me and kiss me after."

Lucas is sure Tim will be the death of him one time. But right now he is more than content with this fact, when Tim's dick is down his throat.

 

***

 

"Who the fuck is this guy?" Lucas hears Red Hood swear in his earbud when he kicks off all the five thugs Hood was fighting with in something like a minute.

Tim pops a gum loudly, before answering:

"He is _my_ guy, so suck it up and at least try to kick some asses there, for fuck's sake."

Lucas grins wide, moving to the next target. And he is pretty sure Tim is smiling too.


End file.
